


Only Heart

by morbid_solemn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kids, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-06-26 01:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15652560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morbid_solemn/pseuds/morbid_solemn
Summary: Steve is a fugitive and the reader is left to pick up the pieces of her family.





	1. Baby I'm Begging You

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is John Mayer's song "Only Heart." Each chapter title is a lyric from the song. Please listen to it! It's perfection.

“Daddy!” You were in the kitchen when your daughter screamed with joy. You closed the fridge door, abandoning your search for tomatoes. You couldn’t help the skip in your step and the smile on your face as your heartbeat quickened loudly in your ears. But as you approached the living room, you realized the space was empty, save for your two kids. You were about to ask about the outburst when you noticed the news clip playing on the television. You stopped in your place when the clip was replaced with a picture of him.

“Captain Steven Rogers is still at large and considered armed and dangerous. Authorities have asked that you do not confront him or his-” While the reporter continued, photos of Sam and Bucky were also displayed. More clips began to play, but you rushed to turn off the television.

“What did I tell you?!” You inquired, desperately, your voice harsher than you had intended. Your son and daughter peered at you for a moment. “I said ‘Don’t change the channel.’” James looked down guiltily while Sarah continued to stare at you. “There are reasons we have these rules,” you kneeled down to get to James’s level. “Honey, these rules keep us safe.” You looked out of the window, noticing the moon gleaming in the night sky. “C’mon, it’s late,” you said, pushing off of your knees and picking Sarah up. You hoisted her to your hip and held James’s hand as you led them to their rooms. Over your shoulder, Sarah turned to the TV and pouted.

“Daddy!” She squealed. You patted her back, but your soothing attempts weren’t enough to stop the bursting tears that spilled from her eyes. You bit your tongue and winced at the sound of her wailing. You opened James’s bedroom door and motioned sternly for him to sit inside. You continued to pat Sarah’s back, whispering caring words of “It’s okay” and “Shh, it’ll be alright.” When you laid her shaking body on her bed, her lip was still quivering, but the crying had stopped. You sat at the edge of her bed, playing with her tiny fingers.

“I know you miss him, kitten; I do, too.” You said, softly, willing away your own tears. She looked up at you, the blue of her eyes electrified by her recent crying.

“I want Daddy.” She enunciated her words clearly, and normally you would have proud of her if her wish hadn’t been so damn heartbreaking. She waited a moment, expecting you to give in and magically pull her father from a hidden closet like a magician. When no trick ensued, she folded her tiny arms across her chest and turned away from you. Steve had once said she had learned that from you, to which you crossed your arms across your chest and walked away from him. You sighed and pulled the covers around your daughter. She remained quiet and didn’t move. You pulled her favorite stuffed animal, a pink kitten with a purple nose, from her shelf and placed it her hands. She hugged the kitten close to her, and you knew she’d be alright in the morning. You closed the door and sighed. James would be a lot harder to calm down.

You knocked on his door. No reply sounded from within. “James, I’m coming in,” you announced. When no complaint was heard, you entered. James was sitting on his bed, holding a framed picture, with his legs dangling on the side. You sat next to him and took the picture frame from his hands. It was a photograph of you and Steve standing behind a two-year-old James. It was before Sarah was born and a few months after you had bought the house. It had taken those few months to convince Steve to repaint the house a color that wasn’t a lackluster white. The picture was taken while you and Steve were painting and James was playing in the front yard. Your white tee shirt and jeans were splattered with yellow paint, but you had considered yourself lucky because on Steve’s face was a yellow partial handprint from you. The handprint was clear in the picture and you smiled fondly at the memory. You handed the frame back to your son. “I don’t know when he’s coming back, honey.” You moved the hair out of your eyes and laid your hands on your lap. James kept his eyes trained on the photo.

“Is Dad a criminal?” He tried to sound indifferent, so much older than he was, but the shake in his voice was more than enough.

“No.” You said, firmly. “Your father is a good man.”

“The news lady said he was a criminal.”

“And that’s why I told you not to change the channel.” You sighed. You could avoid the question all you wanted, but this question was bound to arrive sometime. “Dad stood up for something he believed in. Something was going on in the world, and he believed that he had to stop it. He took a stand, but in the end, he didn’t win. And because he lost, he can’t come home right now.”

“Why did Dad have to stop it?”

“Because he knew what was happening was wrong.” You held James’s hand, urging him to look at you. “You should always stand up for what you believe in. If you don’t protect your beliefs, then you don’t have any.” You dropped the ethics voice and pulled him in for a hug. “It’s going to be okay.” You whispered to him, almost trying to convince yourself. You lifted the covers and he slid into the bed. You tucked him in, giving him another hug before getting up to leave. 

“Is Dad ever coming home?” You paused at the door. You could lie, and tell him that Steve would be home soon. Or you could tell him your truth that he wouldn’t be home for a long, long time.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

***

You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. In the early months, you would abandon your normal side of the bed to sleep on Steve’s side, close your eyes, and breathe him in. But now, the smell of him was long gone. You stared at the circular patterns on the ceiling. In the beginning, you found yourself with red, puffy eyes in the morning after crying through the night. Now, however, your eyes were dry and your heart was empty. The foam of the paint rollers had imprinted on the white paint. When Steve left, the pain was fresh and raw, squeezing you like a vice. It left you numb and unfeeling. When you saw his face on the TV, your heartbeat increased, sure, but only because you were concerned for your kids.

You screwed your eyes shut. You had been trying to avoid this moment for so long. You never wanted them to find out about Steve like this. After he left, you had told them that he was on another mission. You and Steve had elected to be open with your kids, but the recent accusations of treason had prevented you from doing so. You knew that if he was brought up, the act would be up and tears would flow.

In the past month, you had convinced yourself that you no longer cared for Steve Rogers and that your kids were the only connection between you two. You twisted the ring on your finger, sliding it slowly to your middle knuckle and then back down. As you slid it back down, you remembered when Steve had placed it there himself. Later that day, when you two were lying in bed, he had pulled your hand over to him, pushing the ring up and down your finger as you currently were doing.

“Wow,” he said, in a daze, staring at your hand. “I can’t believe you said yes.” You laughed and turned, placing your right hand on his face. You pulled him towards you and kissed him softly.

“Yes, you can. There’s no way I would’ve said no.”

The smile on your face was soft. Maybe you only felt that you didn’t love him anymore because he had been gone for so long. It had been a year. You stopped twisting the ring and turned your side as if turning away from the thought. You closed your eyes, but sleep didn’t come easy.

***

“James, hurry up, you’re going to be late!” You called out from Sarah’s room, where you were struggling to get her dressed. “Okay, sit over there, I’ll do your hair.” She sat down, wordlessly. “Still not talking to me, huh?” You smiled smugly, as you tied her hair into two pigtails, her favorite hairstyle. She gasped as she looked in the mirror, turned around and hugged you.

“I love you, Mommy!” You laughed and picked her up, carrying her down the stairs. James was already at the breakfast table with a bowl of cereal that was surrounded by spilled milk and cheerios.

“Sorry, Mom,” he muttered, getting up to clean his mess.

“Don’t worry about it, puppy.” You placed Sarah in the high chair and brought a paper towel over. You poured a handful of cheerios on the highchair table for Sarah and then you began to soak up the milk. After cleaning up the mess, you poured some coffee into your thermos. “Go put on your shoes. And help your sister.” You opened the high chair and set Sarah on the ground. She offered her hand to James, who took it with a grumble and led her out of the kitchen. You smiled at the interaction and poured milk into your thermos. You grabbed your bag and saw your kids sitting on the couch, swinging their little legs back and forth. ”At least they have their shoes on,” you thought. “Where are your bags?” Sarah pointed across the room. You grabbed the two backpacks and opened the front door, watching James and Sarah hurry out the door. You closed the door, locking your house door and unlocking your car simultaneously. You shook your head at the sight of James struggling to open the car door. You opened it for him, letting him sit in the car seat, while you buckled Sarah into the booster seat. You laid their bags in the middle seat, watching James buckle himself in.

After dropping James off at pre-school and Sarah off at daycare, you arrived to work only four minutes late. You entered your office, sighing as you sank into your seat. You had just settled down from your sprint inside when your work phone rang. You jumped in your seat, homicidal rage flowing through your veins. You breathed slowly, quelling your anger. You picked up the phone, raising it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” You froze with your eyes wide. Steve called every few months, but lately, the frequency of his calls had decreased. He hadn’t ever called your office phone, either. The two of you had worked out a routine for phone calls. He would use a burner; communication would be in code and last less than two minutes.

“How’s the weather?” you asked, regaining your composure. What’s wrong?

“A bit cloudy.” We might be in trouble.

“Well, it’s sunny over here.” You spat. Your family’s fine, thanks for asking.

“Wish you were here,” he laughed. I need to see you.

“I might need an umbrella,” the words were slow and careful. Do I need protection?

“No, it looks like the clouds are gone, it’s pretty sunny now. Still wish you were here.” We’re good now, but I still need to see you.

“Gotta go. I’m getting coffee at 10.” Café in 10 minutes. The line disconnected and placed the phone on the receiver with shaking hands. You pushed away from the desk, grabbed your bag, and exited the building.

***

The small metal table had two chairs and so you sat down in one. You cradled the warm coffee in your hands. You were wearing large sunglasses that gave you a sense of anonymity. From behind their tinted lenses, you looked from person to person, gauging the possibility that they were undercover agents. Amid your survey, Steve sat down in front of you. He was wearing a baseball cap and glasses.

“That’s really stupid disguise,” you whispered. You placed the coffee down on the table. He picked up your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles, reveling in the feel of your skin.

“I know,” he smiled, and, even after everything, after the emptiness, the tears, the heartbreak, you smiled, too. You leaned forward, placing your lips against his, screwing your eyes shut after he began to move against you. An alarm went off in your brain and you pulled away. You wiped the tears from your face and Steve held your hand tighter, peering at you with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you sniffled, shaking your head. “Every-” In the middle of your sentence, Steve shot out of his seat, pushing the table on its side and grabbing you. A bullet whistled past, and you kept your head down, curled on the ground with Steve over you.

“You okay?” He asked, from behind you. You nodded quickly. “C’mon,” He grabbed your hand and you were up and running. Steve identified three snipers from the roofs of surrounding buildings. Five agents ran towards you from all directions. You recognized two of them from the bakery across the street. A van pulled up and Steve pushed you towards it. You saw Sam jump out from the back and recognized the driver as Bucky from the photos Steve had shown you. Bucky hopped out of the vehicle as well and joined Sam and Steve. You ran to the van and climbed into the back, tucking yourself into the corner furthest from the action. You didn’t consider yourself a damsel in distress, but at the moment, you were weaponless and you weren’t exactly a hand-to-hand combatant. You heard a few more gunshots, the sickening sound of cracking bones, and several thuds as bodies hit the pavement. A few moments later, the three men piled into the van. Bucky resumed his duties as driver and Sam joined him in the passenger seat. Steve stayed in the back with you.

“Are you okay?” He asked. You realized that you hadn’t missed Steve’s eyes because now it was like looking into James’s, the same concern in the same sea of blue.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. Sam turned around from his seat.

“How you doing, Y/N? It’s been awhile.”

“When I said you should visit sometime, I didn’t mean like this,” you joked. Sam laughed.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.” Bucky looked up at the rearview mirror to make eye contact with you.

“Y/N. It’s great to finally meet the guy I named my son after.” You smiled.

“I really thought Steve was joking about that. That’s fantastic.” He smiled, brightly. “And I’m real sorry about this.” Before you ask what he’d meant, Bucky ripped the steering wheel to the side, spinning the van around. “Gotta lose this tail. Hold on.” Before you could be pushed over to the other side of the van, Steve grabbed your waist and held onto you.

“I got you,” he smiled, but you pulled away from him and his smile dropped. “What’s wrong?” He frowned.

“I’m fine.” You crossed your arms over your chest. Steve fought another smile that dared to cross his face.

“Listen, I’m sorry about how this all played out, but-”

“It was a trap!” You yelled, unable to control your outrage. “You knew you were in trouble, but you told me to meet you anyway!”

“Y/N, I know, but you were never in danger. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you!” Steve explained. The van took another sharp turn off the highway, losing two of the three remaining cars.

“You know? You know?” You repeated, incredulously. “Oh, so you know that you led your wife into a trap? That you used her as bait?” You laughed bitterly. “It’s all fine, as long as you knew.”

“We had to check if our lines of communication were compromised. I knew that you’d be perfect for it, and I knew that I’d protect you,” he stressed.

“I’d say I’m surprised that you’d put your family on the line for your own sake, but I’m really not surprised.”

“Not this again,” Steve groaned.

“Yes, this again!” you yelled. “You could’ve taken the same deal that Scott and Clint took, but of course you didn’t! Because staying true to your cause is so much more important than being there for your family!”

“It’s not that easy, Y/N!” Steve yelled back. “Not everything is black and white!”

“Yes it is, Steve! It is that easy! It’s not for you, because you’re not there when Sarah cries because she thinks I’m keeping her father from her, or when James asks me if his father’s a criminal! It’s not easy for you because if you were there for all of that, you’d make this decision in a heartbeat!

“There was no guarantee that I’d get the same deal!

“Yeah, but there would’ve been a chance! And if you really cared about us, you’d’ve taken that chance! But you didn’t, Steve, because you don’t give two shits about us!” Steve looked at you. You had seen him hurt, bones broken, bruised and bleeding, but you had never seen him hurt like this.

“You really think that?” His voice was soft, barely there, and you almost broke down. You almost fell into him, sobs racking your body as your tears soaked his shirt, apologies spilling from your mouth. Almost.

You took a breath, your eyes trained on him, and clenched your jaw. “I do. And you know what else I think?” You placed your right thumb, index, and middle fingers on the ring on your left hand, twisting it off your finger like you had last night. Only this time, you pulled it off your hand completely. Steve tipped his head back imploringly; silently asking you not to do what you both knew was coming. “I don’t want to be your wife anymore, Steve. I give up.” You dropped the ring to the bottom of the van. The sound of it clinking against the metal covered the sound of your hearts breaking. Steve grabbed it and looked back at you.

“Y/N…” And now his eyes looked just like Sarah’s had last night: a brilliant blue electrified by tears. You held back your sobs and looked over at Bucky.

“The other car’s gone,” you noted after double checking through the windows. “Just let me out here.” The van stopped on an empty road. Bucky and Sam looked back at Steve and you but hesitated to interfere. For that, you were grateful. You opened the back door and turned to Steve before you left. He picked his head up, hopeful as to what you might say. “I’m sorry” or “This is a mistake” or “I love you, just come home.” Instead, you screwed your eyes shut and pressed your lips together. “I can’t,” you whispered, before turning away and closing the door. Steve held onto the ring as the van drove away, leaving you alone in the street.


	2. Living Our Separate Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader and Steve experience the aftermath of their break-up.

The next day found you in your house after dropping James off at pre-school. You had called in to work sick, so you didn’t have to drop Sarah off at daycare. After you helped her out of the car, you held her hand as the two of you began towards your house. Sarah’s eyes were trained on the pavement in front of her, each step slow and deliberate. The slow pace allowed you to take in the yellow paint on your home.

You felt tears prick at your eyes and your throat began to ache. You swallowed hard and tugged on your daughter’s hand lightly. “C’mon, honey,” you led her to the front door, opening it for her. Sarah dropped your hand and ran into the house. She sat down, struggling to remove her sneakers. “Hold on, I’ll get it.” You knelt down in front of her and pulled the laces apart. Sarah placed two hands over your left hand.

“Mommy!” She stared in awe at your hand, and you gulped. “Where’s your ring?” You sighed. You were bound to be caught. Your ring was basically the only item you wore day in and day out, and Sarah  _loved_  it. As a baby, her fascination with it was hilarious.

_“Steve, I’m serious. I’m afraid she might swallow it.” Sarah was cradled in your right arm, your left hand held in both hands by your two-month-old daughter. She was staring at your ring, completely entranced by the stone that was practically the size of her eye. Steve laughed, walking up to you._

_“No way,” Steve pulled one of her tiny hands away from yours. She wrapped her hand around his finger instinctively and looked over at him with bright blue eyes. “Look at that,” he smiled, “Seems like she’s only interested in that ring and me. Sounds like someone I know.” He leaned over to kiss you._

_“Mm,” you hummed, smiling as he pulled away. “I think I’d be more interested in the ring than you.”_

_“Yeah, right.” Steve laughed as he picked Sarah up from your arms, swaying her back and forth while humming to her. He laid a kiss upon her forehead and laid her gently in her crib._

“Mommy!” You blinked, looking at your two-year-old daughter. “Did you lose it?” She whispered.

“Yeah, yes,” you lied. “I lost it.”

“Will Daddy be mad?” She asked softly. You pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know, sugar. Don’t worry about it.” You stood to your feet, helping her up afterward.

“Why’d James go to school?” She asked.  _“Because James is too smart for his own good. He’d ask why we were taking the day off and if I told him just because, he’d never believe me.”_  You held her hand as you walked upstairs.

“James has to go to school to learn, but I thought the two of us could just play at home.” You smiled mischievously at her. She looked up at you with a toothy grin before running into her room. You sighed, mentally preparing yourself for hours of hide and go seek.

***

After an hour of hide and go seek and another hour of playing dolls, Sarah was sleeping soundly against your body. You smiled down at her, running your hands through her hair. You slipped your hands under her, lifted her, and placed her on her bed. You tucked her under the covers and placed a kiss upon her forehead. You crept out of her room soundlessly, leaving the door open. Even your steps down the stairs were precise, avoiding the boards you knew would creak the most. At the bottom of the stairs, you let out a breath. You walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You took a sip and leaned back against the countertop. You glanced out of the window; it was 2 o’clock, but the rained-filled clouds worked to deceive you by hiding the sun. You looked down at the tiles under your bare feet.

_“There!” Steve said proudly. He stepped away and placed his hands on his hips. The boxes that had covered the kitchen tiles were now pushed to the walls._

_“When I said to move the boxes, I didn’t mean this.” You frowned, standing at the entrance of the kitchen. He stepped forward, grabbing your hands and pulling you towards him._

_“Yeah, I figured,” he smiled and pulled out his phone. He took a few moments to unlock it, his thumb hovering over the screen before finding the app. The Beatles’ “You’ve Really Got a Hold on me” began to play. A small smile formed on your lips as Steve returned his phone to his pocket. He placed his hands on your hips, and you placed yours on the back of his neck. You swayed to the music, closing your eyes and laying your head against Steve’s shoulder. Silver light shined through the window in slivers and crickets chirped endlessly just outside._

_“I love you to the moon and back,” you whispered. Steve wrapped his arms around you._

_“I know.”_

_“I love you to pieces,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against the side of his neck._

_“I know,” he said gently. He pulled you closer and pulled his head down, looking you over. “I love you, too.”_

The mug burned in your hands. You took a sip before placing it on the countertop behind you. You rubbed a hand against your face and stared out at the kitchen before you. You pushed away from the granite counter, picked up the mug, and sat down on a couch in the living room. You placed the mug on the coffee table and folded your legs underneath you. You pulled out your phone, scrolled through your contacts and pressed call.

“Hey, it’s me.” You stopped to listen. “Yeah,” you smiled softly. “Do you want to come by for dinner?” You paused again. “Great. Be here at 6.” You pulled the phone away and ended the call. “Crap,” you said, looking at the time. You ran up to Sarah’s room. “Sarah, wake up,” you nudged her shoulder. “We have to pick up your brother.”

***

As you placed the dishes in the sink to be washed, you glanced into the dining room. Sarah was sitting on Tony’s lap, her hands flying wildly, regaling him of some tale. Tony just sat there nodding his head and fighting off laughter. James interjected and began telling the same story from his point of view.

You didn’t blame Tony for what happened last year. He and Steve had simply taken sides in a war and now that war was over. It wasn’t his fault that Steve had refused a deal and wouldn’t be able to come home. After all, they had both suffered horribly, and holding a grudge against one of your best friends who also happened to be your son’s godfather wasn’t exactly something you were up for.

“Just the two of you?” Tony asked. “Well, that’s just not possible.” You entered the room with a small smile on your face. Tony turned to you. “Hey, Y/N, did these two really break that table that used to be over there?” He pointed towards the foyer. You groaned and looked at Sarah and James.

“This is the story you were telling?” James laughed at your groaning. “Yeah,” you scrubbed a hand over your face. “They did that. That’s why I shower at like midnight now. I was in the bathroom for  _two_ minutes.” The moon shone through the window and you turned to your kids. Dinner had turned into dessert and now it was 8. “C’mon, it’s bedtime.” James groaned, but slid his chair out to get his feet on the ground. Sarah looked up at you from her seat and waved her arms out towards you. You placed your arms at her side and lifted her up. You put her on the ground, turning when Tony placed a hand on your arm.

“Let me help.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll only be a minute.”

“You do this every night by yourself. Let someone else do it for once.” You blinked at Tony’s words. This was probably the most serious he had ever been. You knew your kids adored Tony and would have no problem with it and you  _had_ been doing everything by yourself lately.

“Thanks,” you smiled. Sarah eagerly grabbed Tony’s right hand, James running to catch up. You watched them walk up the stairs: Sarah on the right, James on the left, and Tony in the middle, looking down to listen to whatever James had to say. Your smile turned sad and you sat on the couch, almost defeated. Tony returned about 15 minutes later. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he came down the stairs.

“I noticed you’re not wearing a certain piece of jewelry.” You looked down at your left hand, your thumb running across the tan line.

“I broke up with Steve.” The words fell slowly out of your mouth and even saying it didn’t seem real. From the moment you met Steve, you had thought you’d always be together. You frowned at your hand. “It doesn’t seem right,” you thought aloud. “It doesn’t feel right, y’know?” You looked up at Tony. “When I think that I’ll never hold his hand, or, or lie down and watch a movie with him, that I’ll never fall asleep against him again, I just feel so  _defeated_. Like this is the end. There’s no way I could live my life without Steve.” You paused and noticed that Tony was sitting next to you. You continued to stare ahead though. “But then I  _think_  about it, and I  _know_  it’s the right move. He left, he put himself before his family,  _like always_ ,” you added. “I know this is the right move, but it just doesn’t feel like it.”

“Maybe it’s not.” You turned to Tony. If you expected anyone to confirm your thoughts, it was Tony. “Look, if this decision doesn’t sit well with you, maybe something inside you is trying to tell you it’s the wrong decision.”

“Tony, I’ve thought about this for  _weeks_. I’ve felt empty for  _months_. This had to happen.” You tried, and failed, to convince yourself.

“It doesn’t matter how long you take to make this kind of decision. You can be completely sure of yourself before, but when you’re standing there, in front of that person, it’s not so easy. Sounds like you’re regretting this.”

Your eyes were set on the floorboards in front of you. You could almost see Steve walking in, covered in yellow paint, you running in after him, chastising him for dripping paint all over the house. You smiled as you remembered what he had said to you in his defense:  _“Well, you_ did  _tell me to paint the house.”_

“We’re moving, Tony.” You eyed the previously yellow spots on the floor that you had scrubbed endlessly.

“Okay, like to another neighborhood?” Tony asked slowly. Currently, you lived within close proximity to the new Avengers building. When you didn’t answer, he tried calling your name.

“Try another state.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Everything reminds me of him. And it’s not just the house. It’s—it’s the bakery where some kid recognized him and Steve didn’t hesitate to take a picture and hug the kid. It’s the grocery store where we were pushing a cart down an aisle and I realized that  _grocery shopping was fun with him._ And I realized that  _anything_  could be fun as long as I was with him. And now I’m not with him and it really doesn’t seem like there’s any point to anything!” You took a breath. ”We’re moving. I’m sorry.” You hadn’t told James and Sarah yet, but you knew the tears would be endless when they realized that they wouldn’t see Tony and Bruce and —. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Don’t make this decision just yet. Wait on it. At least for a month.” You nodded, but both of you knew that when your mind was made up, there was no changing it.

***

After Tony had told her that she would be hunted for aiding Steve and his compatriots, Natasha sought Steve out and joined him. Currently, she was hiding out in an abandoned barn they had designated as their latest HQ. To say the place was out of use was to compliment it. The wooden barn creaked at the slightest wind, leaked with every rainfall, and had somehow managed to retain the smell of animal waste. The sound of the van was muffled through the walls as the vehicle parked nearby. Natasha pushed away from the table with computer monitors. Bucky and Sam entered, the first of the two men walking over to Natasha while Sam sat down heavily on the ratty sofa that had seen better days.

“Natasha, whatever you want to say, just don’t,” Bucky warned her, but she just tilted her head and stared at him.

“Where is he?” She tried to push past him, but Bucky grabbed her arm.

“I’m serious. Don’t do this.” Natasha pulled her eyes away from Bucky to see Steve walking into the base. His eyes were set dead ahead, movements slow and deliberate, but when Natasha caught sight of his clenched fists, she knew she had been right. She pulled her arm out of Bucky’s grasp and stormed off to confront Steve.

“What the hell, Steve? I told you that plan was shit and you went ahead with it anyway!” As Natasha berated him, Steve tightened his fist, his nails digging into his palm.

“Not now,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Let me guess: you’re pissed that she rightly told you off? Which is exactly why I told you not to do it!” Steve looked down at his hand.

“No,” he said, slowly raising his hand and opening it. “She left me.” Natasha looked down at his hand to see the engagement ring that Steve had bought years before. He closed his hand again, walking off to exit the warehouse through a back door. Bucky called after him, following him outside. Sam looked over at Natasha, who stood awestruck.

“Happy?”

***

As Steve looked out at the field behind the barn, he realized that they’d have to relocate soon. This safe house wasn’t a particular favorite of his, but it was simple and quaint, and in the middle of nowhere, so he didn’t have to look over his shoulder much.

“You think you two are done for?” Bucky asked, leaning against the wooden building next to Steve.

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “When she’s mad she tends to blow things out of proportion. But if she’s thought this through,” his voice trailed off as he shrugged his shoulders. Bucky nodded.

“Are you done with her?” Steve smiled at his friend’s direct line of questioning.

“Not even close.” Steve opened his hand again, turning the ring over.

“Then it’s not over. You’ll go back to her, and she’ll be upset, sure, but you’ll get her in the end.” Bucky explained.

“It’s not about her leaving.” Steve pushed away from the building. “Well, it  _is_ , but it’s what she said.” He closed his fist around the ring and placed it in his pocket. “That I don’t care about our family.” He scoffed, turning away from Bucky and looking over at the far reaches of the field. “I can’t believe she thinks that.” He looked down at the ground before turning to Bucky again. “God, I can’t even imagine what the kids must think.” He looked back through the barn, one of the many safe houses he had hidden in before.

_Steve exited Peirce’s office. Alexander Pierce had just explained that he would do whatever was necessary to find the person or persons guilty for the death of Director Fury. Not before examining evidence of treason on Fury’s part. As Steve walked towards the elevator, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Your name was written on the screen. He accepted the call and answered._

_“Hi honey,” you replied over the phone. “We just got back from my mother’s; the traffic was_ insane _. Anyway, I know you said not to come in, but I just had to pick up a few things form the lab, so I figured it’d be okay.”_

_“You’re here?” Steve asked warily, looking around._

_“Yeah, I know, but I don’t see the big problem, Steve. Everything looks fine.” Steve jogged down the rest of the hallway. When he reached the elevator, he pressed the down button with such force that it cracked. He froze when he heard a giggle over the phone. “Yes, James, my calculator is very fun to play with.”_

_“You brought James here.” Steve closed his eyes at the thought of his son caught in the crosshairs of the upcoming disaster. Round, blue eyes and a silly smile placed delicately on a chubby face that had a gun pointed at it. “You need to get out of here.” You began to argue, but Steve cut you off. “I don’t have to explain it to you!” The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside. He pressed the button to close the doors and keep them closed, but it stopped at the next floor anyway. Rumlow and some of his men entered the elevator. Ever since Fury dropped into Steve’s apartment the next before, his guard had been up. That hadn’t changed. As the elevator descended, it continued to stop, more men piling into the cramped elevator._

_“Before we get started, anyone want to get out?”_

_***_

_Steve pried the elevator doors open to see a tactical team ready on the other side. Quickly closing the door, he heard the team’s leader explain that there was nowhere to go. He took a look at the glass, taking a breath to ready himself before catapulting himself out of the glass walls, shield-first. He ducked behind the cover of his shield as he fell, crashing through the rafters of the lobby. He fell solidly against the tiled floor. Groaning, he pushed himself off of the ground, ready to run when he saw you. At the sound of the crash, you instinctively held James tighter, spinning your body around to take the brunt of the shattered glass. After a moment, you turned back around, your eyes wide._

_“Steve!” You called out. He ran over to you, grabbed your arm, and then the two of you were off and running. You held James close, his face pressed tight against you._

_“Take the southwest exit. You know where to go.” You nodded and Steve ran off in the direction of the garage. It was likely that you would be met with some form of resistance. It was also very likely that you or James would be hurt. Best case scenario, you’d both be taken as hostages. Steve ran faster._

_***_

_The two of you had a safe house that you had kept out of S.H.I.E.L.D. records. Steve had wanted to disclose this information in the interest of staying honest with his government, but you refused, explaining that secrecy would be necessary in the case of an emergency. As he rode towards the site, he was glad you had won that argument. He parked his bike a few blocks away and walked the rest of the way. As he neared the rather unsafe neighborhood, he scanned the area for any trace of you and James. Your car was nowhere to be seen. He entered the building and walked to the apartment door. He placed a shaking hand on the doorknob, which was still locked._ “She’s not here yet,” _Steve froze._

_“What did I first want to name James?” You asked through the door. Steve sighed in relief, his body visibly slouching._

_“Uh,” He paused, remembering the question. “Wilson! You were watching_ House _when you found out that you were pregnant.” The door opened, and you pulled Steve inside. He held you for a few moments before placing a searing kiss on your lips. You pulled away, breathing hard._

_“I saw you through the peephole,” you motioned to the door. “But they’ve got this tech, it’s like a mask. Basically, it’s used to alter facial appearances. I just had to make sure it was you.” Steve nodded._

_“Good to know.” He walked inside. “Is James okay? You have no idea how worried I was.” You both walked into the tiny bedroom. On the bed, covered in blankets, was James, sleeping softly. Steve sat down on the bed, running a thumb across his son’s chubby cheek._

_“I’m sorry; I didn’t know it was that bad.” You paused to sit beside Steve. “That fall looked awful.” The painful stinging in Steve’s knees accentuated the throbbing that ran rampant through his body. “Get out of that suit, we should take care of the_ many _injuries you probably have.” You stood up off of the bed and gathered various medical supplies._

_“Yeah, just a minute,” Steve said, dazedly. He placed a hand on James’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. He gazed over his son’s face, memorizing every tiny feature._

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it, Steve,” Bucky spoke and Steve was drawn back to the barn somewhere in upstate New York. “When people are upset, they say all sorts of things they don’t really mean.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” Steve said, and, for a moment, he could almost feel his son’s heartbeat beneath his fingertips.


	3. If You Let Me Leave, I Swear I Never Will

The sun had since set and Bucky, Sam, and Natasha slept inside the barn. Steve, however, knew he would not be able to sleep tonight; his wife’s absence affecting him more than it usually did. His phone buzzed in his pocket and so his eyes were drawn away from the twinkling stars above. The number was unknown to him, so he hesitated to place the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Look, I wasn’t planning on calling anytime soon, but this is actually important.”

“Tony?”

“Rogers, we’ve got less than three minutes, and you’re still on ‘Tony?’”

“What is it?”

“Your lovely wife is moving.” Steve froze. If she was moving, then she wanted to get over him. This, of course, meant their relationship really was over.

“She’s taking the kids and leaving? She didn’t even say anything.” Steve’s voice was soft as he thought of her abandoning the house they had made a home together.

“That’s not the point.”

“Of course it is! That means we’re done for!”

“You won’t be if you go over there and stop her before she leaves!”

Steve sighed. “I can’t, Tony. You know I can’t. They’re watching the house and they’re definitely watching her.” Static crackled on the phone line while Tony remained silent.

“I’ve got an idea.”

***

“Tony, I can’t just leave; I have work.” You switched the phone to your other hand standing over your desk scanning through the piles of pages. “Yes, we’re still moving, but the new place isn’t that far from my work, so I’m keeping this job.” You paused to listen to Tony’s sarcastic comment. You looked over at the clock on the wall. “Fine, I can leave in about an hour. But then I need to be back by 4 to pick James up. Okay? Alright, bye, Tony.” You shook your head as you placed the phone down and continued to look for the paper. You sat down with it, reading through it with a pen in hand.

_You placed the pen at your lips, letting it fall between your teeth. You knitted your eyebrows together and you bit down harder on the end of the pen. A pair of arms slinked around your waist and you let out a yelp causing the pen to fall out of your mouth._

_“C’mon, take a break <” You felt Steve’s hot breath on your neck. You slid your arm back, letting your hand linger on his forearm. _

_“I have to finish this,” your excuse was thin and flimsy, and you could already feel yourself leaning into him._

_“C’mon,” he said, his lips gracing your ear. “Just a short break.” You leaned back completely, tilting your head to the side, baring your neck for him. His hands slid forward and he pulled the pen and paper from your grasp._

_“Fine,” you whispered._

You looked at the pen in your head, almost surprised to see it still there. You could still feel his skin beneath your fingertips, the warmth of him behind you, the beating of his heart against you. You closed your eyes, willing the memories away. You glared at the paper, forcing yourself to concentrate. Unfortunately, the hour passed and you had yet to put a dent into the pile of papers on your desk. Sighing, you pushed away from the desk and grabbed your coat and purse.

You slowed down as you approached the Avengers Facility. The gates swung open and you continued down the road. You parked outside and walked inside the building. Tony was standing with his hands in his pockets at the entrance.

“Hey, where is everyone? Am I just supposed to say goodbye to an empty room?” You asked.

“Oh no, this is just what you’ll be walking into in a week when you move.” You stared at Tony. After you declared that your decision was final, he had agreed not to try to change your mind. “Fine, alright. Everyone’s inside.” He led the way, and then you were in a corridor that you didn’t recognize. He stopped outside a small room and opened the door. “It’s bigger than it looks.” You frowned but walked towards it, opening the door and looking inside. You took a step forward to get a better look at the dimly lit room. It hit you then and you spun around with accusations on your tongue, but Tony shut the door too fast. It took you a moment for your eyes to adjust to the lighting. But it didn’t take long for him to come into view. You swallowed thickly.

“Hi, honey.” Steve took a step closer to you. You placed a hand in between the two of you.

“Don’t.” You took a step back.

“Just let me explain,” he took a step towards you, his hands out, longing to hold you.

“I already have,” you whispered.

“I love you,”

“Steve,” you pleaded.

“To the moon and back.” He took a step forward and you took one back.

“Don’t.” You could feel the lump in your throat and your eyes began to burn.

“I love you to pieces.” The whispered words lingered in the air as your back hit the wall. You shut your eyes, the wall of tears cracking.

“Please don’t do this.”

“Just say you don’t love me. Make me believe it and I’ll go.” You opened your eyes and once you saw the blue of his eyes, the tears spilt freely down your face. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face firmly against his chest. He reacted immediately, placing his arms around you and resting his chin on your head.

“I love you.” You choked out between sobs. “God, I love you so much. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” Sobs racked your bodies and Steve just held you tighter. “I can’t believe I did that, I’m so sorry. I just wanted you back, Steve, I’m sorry.” He pulled away to look at you.

“I never should have left. I married you and we started this family, and I never should have left you.” You sniffed, looking up at him.

“I can do it this time. I can take care of our family.”

“No, Y/N, c’mon. You shouldn’t have to. This is on both of us.” Steve sighed. “This is only temporary. And I know I’ve said this before, but it’s true this time. I’m coming home, baby.” At that moment, Steve could have sworn your eyes shone like the stars.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m working something out with Tony and I don’t when or how, but I’m coming home. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live without you anymore.” You placed your hands at the sides of his face and pulled him down to you. You placed your lips gently on his, your thumb running lightly across his cheekbone.

“I love you to the moon and back.” You whispered against his lips.

“I love you to pieces.” He said. His hand slipped into his pocket and he pulled your ring out a moment later. You held your hand out for him. He slid it on slowly, carefully memorizing every detail of the event. When it was finally back on your finger, he interlaced his fingers with yours. He pressed you against the wall with his lips against yours.

“Let’s go home, darling.” Your voice was pleading and so were your eyes. Steve closed his and looked at his feet.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “Not yet.” And you swallowed your disappointment as you nodded.

“That’s okay, Steve.” You held his hand tighter before letting go. You slid past him. He turned as you approached the exit. “I love you,” you smiled softly. You would leave, and he would stay. You’d return home, and he wouldn’t. You’d hold your children tonight, and he wouldn’t. You’d cry, but so would he.

You turned the knob and left the room. Tony approached you, but you brushed past. You drove home with the seat next to you empty.

Nothing would truly change.


End file.
